


Blue Christmas

by nukanuke



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Dizzy Deeks, M/M, Original Character(s), The Kings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 16:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17532296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nukanuke/pseuds/nukanuke
Summary: Dizzy always has hated Christmas. Thankfully, he has the help of Lucky to try to make things better.





	Blue Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> It's January! Gotta keep up the Christmas spirit with some random fluff, am I right?  
> Lucky belongs to @life-is-no-sugarlicking on tumblr!

 

 

 

 

“I fuckin’ hate Christmas.”

 

The blonde haired woman behind the bar turned an unamused stare onto the sulking young man leaning on the edge of the Atomic Wrangler's grimy countertop. She rolled her eyes and finished drying the last of an assortment of chipped glasses, then turned to hand the tray off to her twin brother standing beside her and attempting to assist another much more rowdy patron. It was Christmas Eve, and in Freeside that meant everyone was usually out at the only bar in town getting wasted enough to forget the holidays, or celebrating by making a whole new batch of bad decisions. There were people packed all around the small saloon, drinking and gambling away their life savings and raucously singing along with the performer on stage to the familiar old songs even when they only knew about half of the original words to them. Dizzy's lack of enthusiasm was painfully apparent by contrast.

“Well, ain't you just a ray of fucking sunshine? Really feeling that spirit of the season, huh?” Francine offered in retort, reaching below her counter to pour a drink from whatever tab lay out of view before sliding the glass over towards the boy. “Here. Try this… our new ‘holiday special’, maybe it'll cheer you up,” she smirked as she spoke and finally he glanced up.

Dizzy was never known to usually be the ‘drown your sorrows' at the bar type of guy, especially since it was no secret to anyone in all of Freeside that Francine was definitely not his biggest fan, but he couldn't help but feel more than a little miserable this time of year. It was not even the fact that it was _cold_ as shit, even for the desert. But it was the fact that every year without fail, despite himself, he would get his hopes up that one Christmas his family could have one like the kinds those Old World stories told about. Sure, there would never be the snow, or those spiky trees covered in sparkly shit, or anything like that. They also would never have the money for gifts, but he didn't really understand the appeal of that too much anyway.

Every year, without fail, his father still would never show up. And to him,  the whole bullshit “family togetherness" feeling was pretty pointless without his actual _family_ being together regardless of how little it seemed to affect his brother and mother.

This year particularly seemed to be bringing his annual nasty mood down even further, and even though his mother had insisted he join them at his abuela's house, he chose instead to storm out of their home and landed here, slumped on a bar stool, surrounded by drunks, gamblers, NCR citizens and other King's members, wallowing in his self-pity. Thinking about it caused him to sneer to himself and bitterly he took ahold of the cup Francine had offered to try to disperse the unrelenting thoughts in his mind.

The glass was suspiciously warm when he lifted it from the counter top, but without thinking much of it, Dizzy took a brave swing of the dark steaming liquid. The initial taste was abysmally sweet, almost thick with the heated sugar, and some variety of strong liquor mixed in hit him in the stomach like a ton of bricks. Dizzy nearly fell backwards from his stool with the recoil of disgust when the mysterious flavor made itself apparent after the initial shock of the alcohol.

“Jesus, baby-doll, you trying to kill me?!” Dizzy spat, shuddering as he pushed the vile drink away.  “What the fuck is this shit?”

Francine smiled that evil little look she normally had and finished pouring a shot for another customer before returning to face him again. “If only I'd be so lucky, then I'd never need to hear you call me ‘baby-doll’ ever again,” she said in a way which implied that she was teasing but Dizzy was certain she probably wasn't. “It's a Christmas drink James made up. It's got whiskey, cinnamon, and rum… all added into a boiling Nuka Cherry. Good, huh? Just like mulled wine, he said.”

Dizzy visibly cringed at her description, pushing the glass further away just to accentuate his displeasure. “Tell James to stay the fuck away from anything a customer is ever consuming or he will single handedly run all your business out,” he answered as Francine scoffed and walked away. He leaned again onto his elbows with a grumble, still dwelling in his negativity which was _definitely_ not improved by the terrible taste still lingering in his mouth; however, he didn't have much time to force himself to fall all the way back into his misery before a laugh behind him abruptly caught his complete attention.

“Somehow I knew I'd find you sulking here,” the familiar voice sounded sweet and amused, and Dizzy felt his stomach flip for whole other reasons besides nauseating mixed drinks. He sat up abruptly and ran a hand over his slicked back black hair, then turned towards the source of the comment with visible apprehension. Beside him, leaning down to eye level, was the smiling face of a red haired cowboy who took the chance before he spoke to press a gentle kiss against Dizzy's freckled cheek when it was presented. He couldn't finish formulating a thought after that, but he could feel his whole face immediately burn as he attempted to sputter a response. 

“Lucky! Uh, h-hey man, how's it going?” Dizzy mentally kicked himself for how stupid he sounded. He couldn't help it; just the mere presence of the older man always seemed to have that effect on him in a way that he never quite knew how to handle. In the past, Dizzy had often found himself pressured into several relationships with various girls around Freeside. Whether it was from the girls themselves, his mother, or other King's, people always seemed to think he needed to _find_ himself someone, and that they knew just the person, but never before had he ever found himself having actual romantic attachment to any them. His apathy got him the reputation of a heartbreaker, but in reality Dizzy was probably the most hopeless romantic in all of  Vegas… it just took meeting the handsome courier who was currently sidling up onto a bar stool beside him before he realized this.

  He didn't know exactly what their relationship was and he was definitely too afraid to ask, not that he'd ever admit that. But, he did know his heart skipped just being this close to him.

Dizzy watched as Lucky flagged down Francine again, who curiously seemed a lot more cheerful this time to be serving the other man than she had been all night serving him, and ordered himself a drink. He then turned back towards the dark haired boy and offered a winning grin that nearly made Dizzy melt right off the stool. “It's going great, Harper and I are taking a couple days off of traveling for the holidays ‘n I’ve gotta pocket full of caps from that blackjack table over there. How could I complain?” Lucky replied as he took a drink from the beer Francine delivered. Dizzy, in his typical nervous habit, absent-mindedly chewed on his lower lip as he considered the past couple hours he’d been occupying this barstool. He _wanted_ to feel guilty for seething so bitterly for so long while Lucky was able to remain positive, and while the company definitely brought things up a bit, he still struggled to force himself to get over his gloom. Instead of trying, he just shrugged and offered a “yeah” as his only answer.

He really didn’t count on the fact that Lucky was perceptive enough to pick up on that, or even that he’d _care_ , but the fact that he froze in midair from lifting the beer to his mouth somewhat indicated that he’d been found out. Dizzy instantly regretted being so obvious; he really didn’t want to bitch about his life and come off as some kind of whiner to someone like _Lucky_ , and especially not during the holidays when he seemed to be so bright and cheerful! Dizzy fumbled over his own words as he attempted to sound as casual as he could manage. “So, uh. Whatcha still doing here then, man? Not going to Goodsprings to see your sister?”  

Lucky shook his head. “No. I…” he paused, fiddling with the bottle between both hands as they rested atop the bar. If Dizzy didn’t know better, his normally so confident and charismatic companion seemed almost… shy? He tilted his head to look up towards him a bit. “ I just wanted to see you.” He added, dark brown eyes finally glancing up towards the boy who was curiously analyzing him.

“ _Oh_.”  

Dizzy was frozen. _What the fuck_. Where did he get off being this nice?! He quick tried to think of something charming, or _anything_ to say back, but _no words_ came into his mind. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart and feel his face flush hot with embarrassment. “Oh.” he stupidly repeated again, as that was the thing he could find to say. Dizzy slowly and awkwardly moved to bury his face in his hands in an attempt to hide how red he was sure that he was. He could hear a slight laugh from Lucky next to him, but was at this point much too focused on his own devolving panic to get upset by it.

“Th-that’s just… That's really nice…” his words were already so soft they could barely be heard over the ruckus of the bar, and it didn't help that his whole face was muffled into his palms. Why was it so much harder talking to Lucky than _anyone else_ he knew; why couldn't he stop himself from getting this stressed out? He never had issues talking to any of his past _girlfriends_ or anything! He continued to mentality reprimand himself over his own short-comings until the sensation of another hand carefully grabbing one of his and peeling it free from his face brought him back to the moment. He was faced once again with the gentle smile of the auburn-haired courier beside him. With that he could _almost_ feel himself actually beginning to calm down.

Lucky, as if that fit of embarrassment never happened, weaved his own hand with Dizzy's. He didn’t say anything just yet, which Dizzy was a little thankful for. Somehow, it seemed, Lucky just always knew what to do to make him feel a bit better.

“I knew you'd be feeling blue, what with it being Christmas and all.” Lucky spoke after relaxing for just a moment, even though Dizzy's fidgeting hand indicated his companion was still somewhat tense. He brought his beer up for a sip with his free hand. Involuntarily Dizzy's mental jukebox clicked on the King's song that came to mind from those words and a slight smile tugged the corner of his lips.

Lucky noted the change of expression and grinned in return. “And besides,” he began, gesturing towards Francine with the empty beer bottle to indicate another round. This time when she arrived, she brought a refill to the glass in front of Dizzy that had been empty for so long that he was almost _surprised_ to see her offer the rum he'd ordered hours ago once again. He made a typically snide remark about the “exceptional service”, which she responded to by beaming a coaster at his head. He dodged to the side into Lucky’s arm and laughed as the older man, despite the hijinks, just casually continued, “I still have got your gift to give you.”

Dizzy was lifting the glass for a small sip, but stopped and pensively furrowed his brow at that. All the time he had spent thinking of how the holiday gift giving had no appeal to him, he never once considered someone might _actually_ give him something.  He glanced towards Lucky with a concerned look in those giant green eyes. “Aww, man, you didn’t need to get me anything. I didn't… I dunno, I didn’t think you would, I didn’t get you somethin' back.” His words were mumbled into the glass, but Lucky shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t want anything.” But Dizzy, instead, quite worrisomely began to mentally sort what he could possibly give him anyway. He didn’t really have anything of value, or anything that could possibly have meaning, and especially not here, at this bar, on Christmas Eve. _Shit. Fuck!_ Lucky deserved better than _nothing_ , being _his_ … well…

  Suddenly he became acutely aware of the fact that Lucky still held onto his hand and his mind was drawn away from gifts. _His what?_ He bit his lip and awkwardly drummed his spindly fingertips along Lucky's knuckles. They spent as much time as possible together every time Lucky was brought into town by his fiery red-haired companion, and he _did_ always seem really glad to see him. But… Lucky was kind of glad to see _anyone_. That’s just how he was.

 Maybe they weren't anything. _Just some kinda close friends._

He had become unintentionally focused upon the way his _giant, weird-looking spider-hand_ looked wrapped overtop of the other man's _cute… perfect, freckled one_ for quite a while until he finally glanced up and met those dark brown eyes that had been watching him the whole time. Lucky let out a friendly laugh at the startled look on the dark haired man's face. He leaned down onto his opposite elbow, giving that hand a reassuring squeeze, and then raised his beer bottle up. “To a happy Christmas... And _not worrying_.”

Dizzy scoffed with what he perceived was a _very slick_ smirk, and rose his glass of rum to return the gesture. “Who’s worried? It's all cool, man,” again he heard Lucky laugh through the drink from his bottle, and even though he felt his heart skip a time, he felt calm enough to laugh too.

 

* * *

 

 

The pair remained occupying those same spots at the bar for the next few hours, going through a couple more rounds (and a couple more quips irritating Francine), until it was apparent that the bar’s crowd had begun to thin out for the evening. All that remained around them were the die-hard gamblers who played until close every day and the drunks who probably had passed out hours ago, slumped over slot machines and tables with bottles still clutched in their hands.

But Dizzy didn't really notice. He was currently too enthralled, leaning on the counter inches from his companion while Lucky enthusiastically retold a story of some adventure he had had while out exploring the wasteland with his usual gang, involving trying to train a gecko and the many ways that proved to be a terrible idea. The story, while definitely exciting to someone who barely ever left the safety of the walls of Vegas, still didn’t captivate him nearly as much as the opportunity to hear the courier retell it with as much passion as he was. The best part, he found, was getting to see Lucky's smile as he narrated, the way his eyes lit up when he remembered another part he forgot to tell, or how he laughed at his own antics; all Dizzy could manage to do was grin and watch him with a dumb, dreamy look on his face. It was only when the animated story telling finished and Lucky set down his empty bottle to just return that smile kindly when he became self conscious once again about their close proximity and the way he had been staring.

Sitting up with an awkward laugh, he moved to slide on the leather King’s jacket that had long been abandoned beside the two. “Man, your life is wild. I don’t think I’d last a day out there.” Dizzy began, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he stood from where he'd been planted for so long. “I'm, uh… gonna go have a smoke. If you wanna,” but, he didn’t even need to bother finishing offering him to join as Lucky already was pushing the barstool back from the counter to stand beside him. Dizzy smiled, more to himself than anything, and they walked to the front door of the saloon side by side.

Pushing through the opening to the outside, the sudden rush of cold air was an unwelcome change to how cozy it had been in the bar. Even here in the damn desert, he lamented, it still got much too _fucking_ cold in the winter. Dizzy drew a crumpled up hand-rolled cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit it while the two stood in a comfortable silence under the hazy red and yellow glow from the giant neon cowboy looming above them. Dizzy was bouncing on his heels to warm up when he noticed at that time that Lucky was watching him from the corner of his eyes and, probably a bit emboldened by the several glasses of rum he’d already had, he reached out to wrap his free arm around the other man’s shoulders and draw him closer. He mumbled something through the cigarette between his lips about making him keep him warm, but the smirk on Lucky's face and the way his arms carefully unfurled around his waist indicated he knew better.

“It's after midnight,” Lucky commented after a long moment. Dizzy glanced down towards him while drawing the cigarette back and exhaling. When Dizzy didn’t seem to get the connection right away, judging by the blank stare on his face, he continued with a broader grin “… So, merry Christmas.”

Those large green eyes blinked with the realization that _somehow_ this night, Lucky had single handedly managed to bring him up _so much_ that he had even forgotten the holiday he dreaded. He hadn’t even considered it _at all_ for the past few hours, come to think of it… And he really found it hard to even remember still how miserable he had been, while glancing down into those sweet dark brown eyes that fixated up on to him. He smiled a bit, tossing the cigarette to the ground so both arms could awkwardly wrap around the shoulders of the shorter man. The way Lucky moved in closer with that shift made his face flush hot all over again and suddenly it was a lot harder for him to keep his eyes on the other's own. He felt a nervous twist in his stomach, which only intensified as a rough hand touched his cheek and turned his face back again.

“Thanks for, y'know… making things less shitty… or whatever.” He finally managed to say, swallowing back his nerves but still uncomfortably chewing on his lip. Lucky just smiled, patient as ever with his bullshit. “Always. I wanted to be the first to give you a Christmas gift, after all.”

Dizzy, of course, began to try to tell him again that he didn’t need to get him anything, the terrible feeling resuming once again still from the fact that he didn’t get him something in return. But Lucky didn’t let him finish. Instead, he just shrugged a bit and removed his hand from the freckled cheek it sat on to take off his ever-present signature black cowboy hat and then casually looped both arms around Dizzy's shoulders. Lucky leaned forward onto the toes of his boots to accommodate the slight height difference between them until they were so close he could feel Dizzy's whole body tense up, and then gently pressed his lips against those of the younger man he held onto.

_Wh-…!_

Dizzy's mind was instantly a haze of flustered embarrassment, not really knowing what to do other than stand there, shocked, with a dumb look on his face. His cheeks burned, so much so it didn't even feel like the typical biting winter cold around them anymore.

_Though he would, of course, never admit it_ … he hadn't ever even _been_ kissed before.

Though he wouldn’t admit it either, he _couldn’t believe_ that it was even happening now, especially not with someone like _Lucky!_

He just instead kept distracting himself by thinking about how he didn’t know what to do with his hands. They fiddled nervously with the back of Lucky's shirt, unable to just relax as his mind reeled with how he was possibly doing something wrong…

Until the sound of the door beside them _bursting_ open nearly made him bite Lucky's lip off. He jumped, clutching onto the other man who seemed totally unfazed by the interruption, besides a little amused by the look on Dizzy's face.

“ _Hey!_ You fuckin' lovebirds better get in here and pay your goddamn tab or I swear I will shoot you and take your caps myself!” Francine yelled from the door-frame, directing the majority of her rage at Dizzy, of course, who just sneered and flicked her off as she slammed the door when she went.

He was nearly afraid to meet the eyes of the man he currently clung onto in shock, but after a long and awkward pause in the silence left in Francine’s wake, he finally glanced down at him, apologetically for the untimely interruption.

 But Lucky, still just as relaxed as always, just took that opportunity to lean up again and offer one last small peck to those lips, along with his broad grin that _still_ made Dizzy's heart skip.

“Merry Christmas, Dizzy.”

 


End file.
